Cupid Meets Stupid
by The JohhnyMcKilt Productions
Summary: Our story begins with a breakup, a confession and a horrible rejection. Enrique's stubborn attitude places his and Oliver's friendship in a delicate position.gianoli.
1. Chapter 1

**Cupid Meets Stupid**

_**Chapter One**_

"I know I may not be the best person to give advice in matters such as love, but please be not so blind as to consider the feelings of those who actually love you. And try not to keep lying to yourself either."

For a moment or two, Enrique's shock could not give way to indignance for the succession of events that happened next.

"What is the meaning of this, Enrique Giancarlo Tornatore?!" shrieked the blonde's 138th date since Bianca and Rosette. "After I finally get convinced to actually date a playboy like you!"

She resoundingly slapped the Italian's confused-looking face before picking up her purse and briskly walking away, leaving the poor boy still frozen halfway through an arm-caressing position.

After a while of letting things sink in., Enrique exploded at his privacy-intruding team captain.

"What was that for, Robert Jurgen?!" he said angrily to the reproachful-looking German in front of him. "That was totally uncalled for! I'm here peacefully enjoying a day out and then you come barging in saying things like that! If you think that purposely breaking me up with my girls would get me to come and train, think again! What you did was downright rude! For someone who doesn't like uncouth people, you act pretty uncouth yourself."

Robert seemed to be somewhat expectant of the outburst as his expression did not change.

"Oh get real, Enrique. Do you actually think I WANT to go around breaking your relationships up? I'm working in the aid of an extremely friend, in case you're wondering. And no, it is neither for sadistic purposes! I just wish you didn't take things as they are, if you even bother to take things in...but no--!"

"There you go again with being vague!"

"--you're too wrapped up in yourself to notice anything amiss around you! Why, if the world ended today, you wouldn't notice! ...being in the arms of girls who you've just met and don't even have a fraction of love for you, unlike some more-deserving people!"

"What? What?!" Enrique's voice had risen to a shout. "What don't I know? What's this crap you bring out of the blue now? Does this have to be so rash and inopportune?!"

When the elder Majestic failed to come up with an answer, the Italian sighed.

"Look," he said, gathering his belongings. "I'm out of here. Don't expect me soon. I won't be able to forgive what you did THAT easily."

Enrique stalked off, leaving a Robert more uncertain than when he first came to confront the playboy.

It was the early afternoon in Luxembourg Park. The air was sweet and alive with birds. As of the sky...it's brightest blue.

---

There was a distant slam of the double oak doors marking the entrance to the Les Desmond Mansion. A swift streak of yellow passed Oliver's peripheral vision.

The French boy had cooped himself in the comforts of his grand kitchen again as he had done for the past several unproductive days. To the confusion of most of his lodging team mates, their youngest member had busied himself with whipping up sickly sweet cakes and other edibles hardly appealing to any of them. And when it came to meals, however, the pro-chef would vehemently refuse to cook them, leaving the work to his trusted maids.

Before, he had been the one who would enthusiastically volunteer to create everything eaten by his team; the change in behavior distressed Robert and Johnny immensely.

That afternoon, Oliver had no heart to do anything food-related.

"Enrique?"

His soft query went unheard and unanswered as the blonde's long and frustrated strides were too fast for him. Only when Robert's pensive form appeared by the kitchen's doorway did the greenette stand.

"What's going on? I thought Enrique was on a date?" he asked.

The German shook his head, somewhat disconcertedly and Oliver was unsure if his captain had even heard what he said.

"Robert?"

The elder teen turned to him with resolute air. "My humblest apologies, Oliver." A hesitant pause followed before he added. "If you would excuse me, I'm off to find Jonathan." With that, he walked away.

Oliver frowned after him for a few moments before making haste for his best friend. With some surprise, he found the blonde packing, though not heavily, but it seemed like it was for a short trip.

"Enrique?" the greenette asked quietly, fearing to agitate the other boy, seeing his foul mood. "What happened?"

Enrique took one long look at him and sighed. He stopped what he was doing and sat dejectedly on the bed.

"Robert was a jerk again."

"How?" Oliver went over and sat beside him. The German had looked un-jerk-ish when he saw him. Something must've happened in Luxembourg Park.

"He so rudely broke up my date with Cecile," complained the Italian. "He accused me of not being faithful, of being blind, lying to myself and other crap vague stuff. I mean, I really made an effort to make Cecile go out with me! I don't even know what suddenly brought this about Rob; I didn't understand him one bit! What he said got Cecile all upset and so she left."

Lavender-lilac eyes traveled to an angry-red hand print on his companion's sun-kissed cheek and guessed what occurred.

"Why did Robert do this to me?" was the continuation. "Do you know?!"

Oliver looked at his best friend with his mouth slightly open and an apprehensive expression plastered on anxious features. He was internally battling with himself. He knew Johnny and Robert were bound to find out what was troubling him. He knew that they would be more than eager to help resolve it. Most of the time, what they would do to achieve that resolve would go without consent, permission or even simple information whatsoever.

But none of that now; the fat was in the fire. The greenette knew full well what the blonde was talking about. He knew the reasons behind Robert's odd actions and much more.

If he told Enrique right then and there, would he understand? He had to be honest; the Italian had been thrown into cluelessness, confusion and pain. He had the right to know what was going on. Besides, the pair had been best friends for years and stuck by each other. Keeping secrets was taboo...but the circumstances have changed.

"It's..." Oliver began; his throat had suddenly become dry. "It's because I..."

Without warning, Enrique's felt soft lips press desperately against his own. Out of reflex and shock, he pushed the younger boy away and stared at him with wide, summer blue eyes.

"Is...is this a joke?!" the blonde spat, disgust ringing with each syllable.

Tears welled up in lavender-lilac eyes as they hardly took in a look of scorn thrown their way, nor did they notice the swift departure of the room's occupant.

Enrique was straight...stiff as a post! How could he think of doing such a stupid, stupid thing?!

Oliver broke down on the bed, mourning over his humiliation and the greatness of his loss at the same time the Italian was sprinting across the neatly trimmed hedges of the Les Desmond Mansion and running out the gates.

Running far away from impending insanity...

It dawned on him that what Robert had said somehow made sense, but did nothing to brighten his day.

Rather, all these were making it worse.

**TBC**

A/N: I'm sorry if this chap was confusing! Include any questions when you review...thanks! ...enjoy!xD and ciAo...


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I am pleased to inform y'all that I am actually writing again! Hoorah! ...enjoy!xD

Special thanks to **Troublesome Aries** for the review, to Lipton's peppermint tea and Kraft's Chips Ahoy! for seeing me through the night, to **Ocean** and her stories and to **frustrated guitarist** of deviantArt for throwing me into a muddle that helped me to get the drama into this thing.

**Cupid Meets Stupid**

_**Chapter Two**_

If Johnny wasn't so deeply involved, the event would be fit to laugh at.

"Blame shifting won't get us anywhere," the redhead began cautiously, answering the unspoken question of the pregnant silence.

Deep plum eyes looked from Robert to Oliver and back to Robert again. The two were sitting on the opposite ends of the Scot's bed with their backs to each other. It was already over three hours since Enrique's departure.

The French boy shook his head as if to clear his head. "This is all happening too fast..." Dried tear tracks were made fresh as he turned to glare at the rigid German. "See what's happened?"

He leapt from the mattress and pointed an accusing finger in his direction. "This is your fault!" was the scream. "This is what you get for taking other people's matters into your own hands without so much as decent permission! ...or a warning!"

Johnny hung his head and sighed heavily, knowing that the brewing argument could not be stopped once started and no one would listen to him.

Robert's form tensed for a brief moment before he turned to face the French boy, keeping his regal sitting position. "I wasn't the brilliant genius who kissed him. That choice was irrational on your part," was the calm yet terse reply.

Oliver opened his mouth then closed it. The incredulous look on his face betrayed his opinion of the answer, that being utterly absurd. "Are...are you accusing me of something YOU started?"

The purple-haired man shrugged in a most nonchalant fashion that his implied indifference was almost appalling. "Well, someone had to start this. Seeing that despite this being your problem, you'd rather choose to rot in your self-pity rather than assert yourself for the sake of your sanity."

Johnny blinked at the bluntness of the reason. Damn, Robert had a good point. By the young greenette's silence, he too thought the same. Oliver looked away, pain and defeat evident in his eyes. A crimson gaze was still regarding him coolly.

There was a sigh.

"Look," Robert began, shifting his position on the bed to appear less intimidating. "I'll be frank with you and say that what I did was downright intrusive and rude for both you and Enrique. You didn't have to make things worse."

Oliver frowned. "You don't need to rub it in. Besides, I wasn't thinking--"

"A bad habit you seem to have picked up as of late."

Lavender-lilac eyes blinked questioningly at the retort.

Johnny shook his head; a sad smile was on his lips. "We'd have to be daft not to notice that you haven't been yourself for the past few...weeks, Oliver," he said kindly. "We kind of found out what was bothering you--"

"I'm well acquainted with how you two work, thanks."

"--and since you weren't in the state to think for yourself, we were BOUND to take matters into our own hands because we care. Wouldn't you think that what happened is a nice springboard and an effective wake up call?"

The greenette inwardly cringed at the truth his friends' words held, but his voice remained bitter. "Oh sure, leave me to deal with the Enrique who now utterly hates my fagotting guts! Kindly suggest a practical plan with which I could take off from here."

He momentarily calmed down. "You guys are in this too..."

Johnny had a sorry look on his face, yet Robert remained seemingly unforgiving. This did not go unnoticed.

The French boy considered the look sternly. "...or is this part of a reckless plan that I'd eventually have to tackle on my own?"

An expression of sympathy momentarily crossed their team captain's features.

"We didn't mean for events to turn out the way they did, Oliver," he said solemnly. "But we won't be able to help you either. All we wanted to do was give you a head start because you couldn't do it on your own but you badly needed one. How you will pull this off is calling your shots. We're really sorry but we are in no position to tell you what to do."

Oliver was still like a child before throwing a violent tantrum. The redhead among them shot a warning glance at the German before taking charge of the situation.

"Enrique's bound to cool off," he said. "He's got to understand you because the two of you are the closest as best friends can get. I've never met any two as close. His anger's directed at Robert anyway." A smirk and a thumb jerk were sent in Robert's way.

"For now I guess we wait for a move from him," was Johnny's daringly optimistic suggestion. "He can't stay mad forever."

The greenette once more sat on the bed. "I've got a feeling this won't be easy," he remarked pointedly. "He may be angry at Robert for rudely ruining a hard earned date but the reason for that is me. Someone he's come to trust like a brother suddenly kisses him and turns his day into an even worse one..."

"I'm confident you'll win him over," Robert said reassuringly and squeezed his shoulder before leaving the bedroom.

Johnny followed the teen's progress and stared at the empty doorway for a few moments before scooting closer to hug the greenette.

Oliver heaved a heavy sigh and leaned into the touch. He looked back on his behavior and noted with some disgust that he had indeed been careless and negligent with himself.

Closing his eyes, he was nevertheless grateful for what Robert and Johnny caused.

**TBC**

A/N: Tell me what you think! Questions shall be entertained when ye review! ...enjoy!xD and ciAo...


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Huge, huge thanks to **Troublesome Aries** and **glitteredvixen06** for those reviews. This chapter is dedicated to the both of you! Hope y'all enjoy!xD

**Cupid Meets Stupid**

_**Chapter Three**_

The fact that Gustav was unaware of the young Giancarlo's arrival until he reprimanded a maid for serving an extra plate for supper distressed the aged man so. After several years of loyal service to the noble household, he knew well that the lack of Enrique's enthusiastic greetings whenever he arrived home spoke of something problematic.

Upon gesturing to the servants that he would not be dining with them and that they may eat ahead, Gustav made his way up to Enrique's room, a grand master bedroom that once belonged to his father but could not be put to good use because of the man's constant, business-related absences.

With a small frown, the butler noted the careless state of the blonde's luggage on the carpet, yet the boy's absence in the room. Gustav then proceeded to the much famed Giancarlo Golden Bathroom, another of Enrique's favorite household haunts, to try his luck. He sighed with relief to hear water running when he pressed his ear against one of the intricately-carved oak doors.

The elderly man was hesitant to knock. "Master Enrique?" he called. "May I come in?"

There were a few moments of silence before a distinctly morose voice answered, "I'll just make myself decent, Gustav."

Gustav nodded and patiently waited outside for some nervous minutes. He stepped back when the doors swung open and did a terrible job of hiding his surprise.

Enrique was clad in only an ecru-colored towel. Summer blue eyes had a dull sheen masking a cornucopia of intense yet sorrowful emotions. A flushed face bore the evidence of crying. His slumped, bath water drenched form heightened the overall gloom enveloping him.

The look his butler was giving him slightly broke his composure and the teen had to avoid the gaze, as well as fight the fresh onslaught of tears that was threatening to consume him.

"Signore," Gustav began in an awed whisper. "What happened?"

Enrique turned about and sat on the covered toilet bowl. "I'm confused, Gustav," he began brokenly.

The butler descended on what he presumed to be a stable, seat-worthy surface to listen. The blonde was staring at the rug unseeingly.

"Robert interrupted my date with Cecile earlier this afternoon," was the continuation in a firmer tone. "Interrupted in a sense that he just walked in and claimed that I wasn't loving the right person, that I was blind and that other people were more deserving. Cecile slapped me and left so I was fuming. I badly wanted to leave. I went back to the house and while I was packing, Oliver…"

Gustav saw Enrique's hand unconsciously ghost over his lips and he knew. He might not know EXACTLY what happened (he didn't want to), but by the sad aura of the boy, he had a hunch. He ogled as dignified as a butler could at the magnitude of the revelation.

The blonde violently shook his head as if to get rid of the memory. His eyes were closed against an unseen pain. "I'm confused…I don't know what to feel! At time like these, I'd have Oliver to see me through but…"

The boy looked up at his butler and godfather. "I don't know what…" he trailed off, quietly dissolving into tears.

Gustav nodded in wise understanding. Enrique had been emotionally scarred beyond doubt. The process wasn't guided and mercifully slow either, but harsh and unforgiving like being thrown into a swirling vortex. He was not a man that was versed in such experiences but he knew that it would be extremely hard for the blonde to face the very person whom he regarded as a brother. It was painful because their relationship had changed. The course was chartered, unknown, uncomfortable and unwanted.

At the sound of a sniff heavy with snot, Gustav sighed. His godson could not remain in such a predicament. It was bad for his health and sanity.

"Enrique," the old man began. "I am not a believer of quick fixes, but try and understand—"

Summer blue eyes hardened in annoyance. What about what HE felt?

"—I said understand," Gustav emphasized, not missing the action. "You do not have to accept it you can't yet. It is undeniable that both of you are badly hurt. But Oliver…"

There was a pause. Enrique's breathing quickened at the mention of the name.

"Oliver will need closure from you," the butler said sternly. "I am sure he knows the gravity of what he did, and I am sure you two would like to save your friendship."

The boy's expression was unreadable.

"Do you?"

The silence between them stretched from Rome to Milan. "I…I don't know."

Gustav sighed once more. "Enrique, I have no words of comfort. I am not in the position to provide such. Please think this over, but do not dwell on it too long. You are not the only party involved."

Enrique did not move. His elderly companion glanced at the rug beneath their feet.

"I hope I was able to help, signor."

The blonde's head shot up and graced Gustav with an anxious look. "Gustav…" His voice broke.

The butler was initially shocked at the fierce hug he received. Exhaling deeply, he returned Enrique's embrace, reinforcing in himself the duty to become as much of a father figure and the boy needed.

- - - -

The Giancarlo heir was finished with a fulfilling meal, feeling somewhat in better spirits.

He was lying on the bed, wearing only underwear and an oversized shirt. The windows and the door to the room's spacious veranda were wide open to accommodate a small night breeze. None of the lights were on.

Enrique closed his eyes and focused on himself.

Uncertainty for his actions earlier that day slowly crept into him. Was his anger really justified? Heck yeah. By all matters of etiquette, Robert was disrespectful. Cecile had been a challenge for him. Out of all the girls the blonde met, she was the only one seemingly immune to his charms. Naturally, he'd be interested…

Cecile…

Was she just that? Was their first date a mere prize for him? A confirmation of his manly prowess? Something trivial he would gain selfish satisfactory from? Enrique didn't want to convince himself that those were the reasons for his actions. He was being objective, yet now that he was thoroughly thinking things over, the accusations were not far from the truth.

He was a player and he wasn't ashamed to admit it.

He enjoyed impressing the ladies. He enjoyed watching them get giddy over his riches and his looks. He liked buying them things; he liked taking them places. He enjoyed seeing smiles on their faces whenever they saw, got or felt something they liked. He even enjoyed what some of these ladies had to offer him in bed.

He wasn't after anything. Such a thought never crossed his mind. Neither was he dissatisfied with anything, nor was he bored. He didn't feel the need to fill gaping holes in his heart because he didn't have any in the first place. He wasn't looking for love. He wasn't in the business just because of the sex either. He did it because…he liked it.

Enrique frowned at the fleeting thought that the world was condemning him because pursuing his own brand of happiness was illegal. This was honest, relatively clean happiness, so why does it feel so wrong now?

Oliver…

His best friend was gay. What's more, he was gay on HIM. Circumstances aside, Enrique would actually be ready to accept that fact of the French boy's sexuality. If Oliver had happened to just pop the information in on any average day, he wouldn't be irked the slightest. They WERE best friends after all.

But this…this was different. It was awkward to know that to boy harbored more-than-friendly feelings for him. All the more so with the act of kissing him, be it by impulse or what. Though the event wasn't enough to get mad on, it was just…weird.

Enrique momentarily stilled his thoughts. Oh no…

He had gotten mad at Oliver. He had snapped at him and made him cry.

The blonde squashed the impending guilt with the reasoning of being caught up in the moment, in the unstoppable momentum. He had been angry with Robert and so his anger toward Oliver sort of…followed.

No.

Gay on him, plain gay or straight, Enrique had absolutely NO reason to snap at his best friend the way he did.

Summer blue eyes slowly opened and stared at the darkness around. All the other issues in this affair can wait. First, an apology was in order.

**TBC**

A/N: Wooh! One more day of exams, one more week of graduation practice and it's college HERE I COME!!! …enjoy!xD


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Woot! No more high school for me!!! Huge HUGE thanks to **nikki**, **Winterblazewolf** and **Troublesome Aries** for their reviews! You guys made my day even brighter. Hope all goes well with that shnazzy party nik! Shnazzy…wth?!

…enjoy!xD

**Cupid Meets Stupid**

_**Chapter Four**_

Oliver awoke late the next morning. He lay on his back in bed and found himself staring at the patterns the sunlight made on the ceiling as he struggled to remember the reason for the strength and clarity he felt.

Hang on, this looked like Johnny's room.

The French boy bolted to a sitting position and noted with some surprise that he was in proper sleepwear. Memories of what happened yesterday came back to him with such bruising force that he fell back into the pillows once more and groaned.

What happened last night then? Did he even have dinner?

"You're awake!"

Lavender-lilac eyes shifted their gaze to the open door. Johnny came in with breakfast on a tray. Robert was right behind him.

"I don't think you ate for the whole of yesterday," began the Scot good-naturedly. "Rob and I aren't as good cooks as you are but we believe we came up with something substantial and edible…"

Oliver sat up once more with a good-God-guys-!-you-didn't-have-to-do-this-! expression on his face. He looked at the humble serving of apple cinnamon pancakes, scrambled egg, sausages and coffee and felt the tears well in his eyes.

"Thanks," he said, looking up at his dear dear friends with a genuine smile on his face.

Using a fork duly placed beside one of the plates, the greenette sampled a portion of the pancake. He smiled as best as he could with his mouth full at the expectant expression on Johnny's face. Oliver sniffed and chewed slowly.

"Is it good?" asked the redhead.

The youngest Majestic swallowed before ejaculating a small laugh, somewhat diminished by the unhindered flow of tears from his eyes.

"Heck yeah, it's good," he choked out a laugh again and helped himself to more breakfast.

Johnny and Robert exhaled the breaths they had been unconsciously holding in relief. A trio of glittering laughs echoed in the spacious room.

- - - -

The smell of garlic being sautéed wafted from the kitchen and into the Les Desmond Mansion's living room where the noble and the hothead were.

Robert looked up from the book he was reading and sniffed the air approvingly. Johnny straightened from his lying position on the elder teen's lap and smiled.

Oliver was concocting his first decent meal in weeks.

Before the two Majestics could settle down once more, the telephone beside them rang. In the haste to answer, the German almost threw the Scot to the carpet. Luckily, the latter was able to regain his footing and grabbed the receiver from the former's grip before he could even place it against his ear.

With a hand covering the mouthpiece, Johnny hissed, "Enrique may still be mad at you."

Robert gave him a WTF?!-face. "How do you know that's even Enrique?!"

Johnny merely rolled his eyes and spoke into the receiver. "Hello?"

"…Johnny?" It was Enrique.

The redhead sighed. "Hey En."

An uneasy pause followed. "Is Oliver in?"

Johnny took a peek in the kitchen and his heart weighed slightly with regret. The young chef was humming while he worked. It was a tuneless thing that seemed to convey the simple, contented happiness of the universe.

Interrupting was almost a crime.

"W…Hang on, En. He's cooking."

"He's coo—?"

The Scot had placed the receiver on the low coffee table and dashed to where the Frenchman was. Robert eyed the device with both brows raised.

Johnny nervously knocked on the doorframe to make his presence acknowledged. "Ah…Oliver?"

"Yes?" answered the greenette, vivaciously wheeling about to face his visitor.

The redhead's resolve momentarily weakened. "It's…he…Enrique's on the phone."

He flinched when he felt the French boy's happy mood crash resoundingly around them. Lavender-lilac eyes were wide a fearful.

"Are you answering him or not?" Robert asked from the living room.

Oliver nodded numbly, squared his shoulders and thrust the sauce-covered ladle he held into Johnny's hand. The Scot gesticulated to his team captain to help him with the cooking once the greenette picked up the receiver.

"En-enrique?"

"Oliver?"

There was silence.

"I'm…I'm sorry for snapping at you yesterday. I didn't mean to and I didn't have the right." Enrique's apology was nervous and rushed.

Oliver's trembling was so strong, it was starting to shake the entire telephone.

"Friends?"

"I…"

"…Oli?"

"…Is that ALL you can say?!" the French boy suddenly exclaimed, surprising Johnny, Robert and himself at the fullness of his voice. "After what Robert and I did yesterday, that's ALL you can say?"

Enrique's cringe of fright went unseen. "Well…what else can I say?"

"React at least!" was the heated reply. "Say something about this!"

"Are you asking me to get mad at you?" There were traces of a frown in the blonde's tone. "I've thought it over and I'm perfectly alright with you being gay. I just didn't mean to get mad at you just because I was mad at Robert…"

There was an impatient click of the tongue. "Blunt as always, Giancarlo. You don't sound the least bit convincing. You sound like you just settled your conscience without giving the slightest regard for anything else. Tell me straight what you feel about this thing!"

Enrique was dumbfounded. "What? I've told you that I don't mind. It's only been a day, Oliver. Don't expect me to fully understand what's going on—"

A shriek of pure annoyance made Johnny and Robert it the kitchen jump. Both of them took a peek in the living room to see if the greenette was still alright.

"Do NOT go ANYWHERE, Enrique Giancarlo Tornatore!" Oliver's voice rose a few more decibels. "I am going there RIGHT NOW and we are going to TALK!"

"O-okay…"

But before he even heard the Italian's reply, he threw the receiver back to the poor machine with such force that it made a shallow dent on the surface of the coffee table.

"Shall you be staying for lunch, Oliver?" Robert called with mild amusement as he helped Johnny transfer their culinary creation to a proper serving plate.

"NO!" was the immediate screech followed by the violent sound of double oak doors slamming closed.

The two Majestics left in the French boy's house could not help but flinch simultaneously at the sound of skidding tires and a ceramic fountain breaking as the car backed into it. The loud engines of Oliver's Peugeot soon receded as he raced to Rome.

Robert and Johnny stared at each other.

"Did…did he still have his apron on?" asked the redhead.

His purple-haired companion merely shrugged.

**TBC**

A/N: PLEASE forgive the typos! I was in the Faculty Computer Lab of the place where my mum worked and as soon as I sat on the seat they told me I had to leave at three-thirty because of a seminar. When I looked at the computer clock it was two-thirty so I rushed this thing and now I'm positive it's got a lot of errors! So sorry!

Tell me what you think! …enjoy!xD and ciAo…


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Thanks for all the support on this story! At least one of my chaptered stories is actually being completed. Ah well...enjoy!xD

**Cupid Meets Stupid**

_**Chapter Five**_

A nerve-wrecking hour was spent by Gustav and Enrique waiting in the Receiving area of the Giancarlo Palazzi...

...until a small 'ding' of the doorbell extremely distressed the teen and sent the butler fretting.

"Is that him? Is that him?" Enrique had gotten up from the couch and was pacing restlessly, wringing his hands.

"Let me check, signor," Gustav replied quietly. He hastened to the large mahogany door and glanced at the small monitor beside it. The device was designed to inform the residents who was visiting without opening the door.

Sure enough, Oliver was standing on the welcome mat, donned in an apron. His hands were on his hips.

Gustav returned to the living room. "He's here, signor."

"Oliver's here!" Enrique almost exclaimed. Gustav shushed him in a hectic manner and the boy clamped both hands over his mouth.

Once the blonde was sure he had calmed down, he spoke in a steady whisper. "What am I going to do?"

"Hello!"

Both men jumped. Oliver had pressed the 'call' button outside.

Gustav didn't answer and ran a hand through his thinning hair in an attempt to return any misplaced locks. The man took a deep breath and approached the entrance with Enrique somewhat reluctantly following him.

"Gustav!" The greenette stepped back and graced the old man with a brilliant smile, erasing any previous frustrations from his face.

The butler bowed low. "_Bon giorno_, Master Oliver. How may I be of service?"

Oliver's eyebrow rose. "Is Enrique there? I hope he hasn't left because I will fricassé—"

"One moment, signor..." Gustav nodded and leant back to address the blonde who was hiding behind the door.

"I don't know what to do!" the poor boy mouthed.

"You might not have to do anything, Enrique," replied his butler in a quiet tone. "He's the one who wishes to initiate the talk."

"I wouldn't know what to reply!"

Oliver frowned at the conversation taking place in front of him and wondered if they still knew he was standing right there.

"Go with the flow and be honest," was the elder man's patient answer.

"But being honest makes him more mad!" was hissed audibly enough for the greenette's frown to deepen.

"_Ahem..._"

Gustav glanced at their irate guest and sighed. He gripped one of Enrique's shoulders and forcibly steered him into view.

"Here he is, signor," the butler said simply and quickly closed the door before the blonde could scramble back inside.

"Thanks Gustav!" Oliver called cheerily before rounding on his best friend with a murderous look on his face. "You're a big, fat liar!" he accused. "Well, maybe not big and fat, but a liar nonetheless!"

"Why?" Enrique asked incredulously. "I don't understand why you're reacting this way!"

"You lie about what you told me over the phone!" continued the French boy. "You're NOT okay with this! You are NOT alright with me being gay!"

"Oh and YOU know my feelings more that I do!"

"Of COURSE not! That's why I'm asking you what you really feel!"

"And I've told you already I'm fine about it!"

"You're only fine about the gay part! You're completely ignoring the other half, that being ME gay on YOU!"

The pair had not moved from the welcome mat since they started shouting at each other. A tense silence momentarily reigned upon the environment as Enrique did not have anything to answer. His expression became serious.

"There you are..." Oliver said quietly. "That's the reaction I was waiting for. It just hurts me that you didn't consider this when you had the nerve to call. You could've told me you didn't like what was happening instead of sound insensitive. I would've understood—"

"You're jumping to conclusions, Oliver!" the blonde ejaculated, catching the greenette off guard. "Truth be told, I still can't grasp what's going on! Don't expect a definite answer from me after a day. Cut me some slack! Allow me to at least take this slowly and start with something. You wouldn't want me to rush thinking this over, would you?"

Oliver opened his mouth, closed it and hung his head. "I'm sorry, 'Rique. It's just that I was so scared of what you'd think of me when you left. Oh...this is Robert's fault."

"Yes this is Robert's fault," Enrique agreed darkly. "This is Robert's goddamned fault. If he only had a bit of decency, you wouldn't have embarrassed yourself the way you did."

Despite the statement, he flashed the greenette a kind smile. He, in turn, stared at the ground to hide a growing blush. The pair was quiet for some minutes.

Enrique sighed and looked about. A small, pale peach-hued carnation that was late to bloom caught his attention. He walked over to the flower-packed bush and examined it more closely. In his concentration, he failed to notice Oliver move beside him.

"Enrique..."

The blonde turned about and straightened up. He regarded Oliver's expectant expression with some sadness.

"It feels awkward," he said lightly. "This isn't a usual thing for me to know. I can't describe what I feel with anything else but awkward...it's isn't bad or otherwise," he added, thinking that the greenette would take it the wrong way.

Oliver nodded quietly and did not reply. They stared at the flowers for a long while.

"I'm glad you aren't mad at me..." said the French boy.

The Italian shook his head. "We're still best friends." Momentary darkness clouded blue eyes as he fought back adding 'but things aren't the same.'

The other boy noticed and lowered a sad gaze to the grass when a reassuring, yet somewhat hollow smile was directed to him. Another moment's tense pause pushed between them until Oliver shocked Enrique with the sudden regain of his former vitality.

"So we're okay now!" he grabbed the blonde's hand. "Come on back to Paris and we just might catch some of Rob and John's cooking! I daresay they're getting much better!"

"Back to Paris? W-wha!" and Enrique was dragged back to the greenette's car.

Gustav watched through the window as the sleek red car drove out of sight and sighed. The Giancarlo heir could get remarkably stubborn. He hoped the young chef would not let his hopes reach too high, for they may crash harder.

For now, the boys were doing a truly incredible job of hiding behind masks.

- - - -

"Any food left?" Oliver asked cheerfully, taking a peek in the Les Desmond kitchen and finding Robert and Johnny having tea.

Both teens blinked.

"Well, you're fast," said Johnny. "How did it go?"

"No bloodshed, fortunately," Enrique answered, presenting himself with an apologetic yet reserved smile.

Robert straightened in his seat and looked at the blonde with visible unease. "Enrique, about yesterday," he began, sincerity lacing his voice. "I'm sorry..."

The Italian was about to wave the apology away when Oliver tugged on his arm and gave him a playful smile.

"A sorry isn't enough, I'm afraid," said the greenette good-naturedly.

Enrique looked at him. "It isn't?"

"_Oui, messieurs_. You two," he pointed to the two having tea. "...have to feed us!"

The German was visibly relieved. The redhead beside him leapt from his seat and went to the refrigerator. He pulled out a Pyrex dish decked with lasagna, heated it in the microwave and promptly served it. Enrique rummaged the cupboards for plates and cutlery.

"I hope this earns your forgiveness," laughed Johnny as the younger pair of Majestics devoured as much pasta as their stomachs and decency would allow.

- - - -

The sun had sunk well beneath the horizon, satisfied with the peaceful quiet in the Les Desmond household and among its inhabitants.

Despite the more or less prevalent cheer, none of the rich teens had any appetites for dinner and settled the satiating themselves with steaming mugs of hot chocolate. No one else in France made hot chocolate with such uniqueness as Oliver, hence the experience was a real treat.

The hours prior to bedtime were spent by the four of them huddled together on the massive couch in the living room. There was minimal conversation, as each of them chose to mull over the events that had transpired within the day.

Robert and Johnny were the first to retire.

They were halfway up the stairs and out of earshot when the German spoke.

"Well, what do you think?" he asked his companion.

The redhead's expression was grim. "It isn't over yet," he said. "They're all smiles for now, but I guess its out of respect for each other."

They took a peek through the balustrade and saw Enrique and Oliver sitting on the opposite ends of the couch: edgy, silent, evasive and preoccupied.

"If neither of them makes a move," Johnny continued ominously. "...they're both going to be eaten alive from the inside out."

**TBC**

A/N: Tell me what you think! Any questions shall be entertained when ye review...enjoy!xD and ciAo...


	6. Chapter 6

Cupid Meets Stupid

**Cupid Meets Stupid**

_**Chapter Six**_

What was he going to do now? Carry on with his pursuit for Enrique's love even when the boy already knew? To Oliver, the thought sounded appalling and insensitive.

But the ball was rolling. He couldn't just stop it now, could he? He couldn't just wait for whatever Fate and the future had to dump across his way. He had to do something...but what?

Two days.

Two days of uneventful pleasantries. Two days of careful, restrained conversation. Two days of Robert and Johnny being annoyingly cool, routine and mundane. Two days of Enrique not smiling as genuinely as he used to.

Two days of nothing, not so much as a distraction like training or anything related to beyblade or cooking, was quite sufficient to drive Oliver crazy. Either the good Lord was mocking him or trying to convey a divine message, he couldn't tell.

Maybe waiting for how things would unfold was exactly what he needed to do. No...he didn't know, and had to content himself with punching out his frustrations into his pillow.

"Oliver? Are you alright?"

Johnny had recently developed a knack for noticing things.

"Why wouldn't I be?" the greenette answered, somewhat too harshly in his opinion. He was sure that his tone of voice totally contradicted what he said.

"Well...you're inconsequentially noisy," came the redhead.

"My, my. Robert is that you?" Oliver bit his tongue and mentally slapped himself.

Johnny's frown went unseen. "...and sarcastic," he added.

The Scot listened intently by the door for any sort of reply and heard a muffled grumble of annoyance. He sighed.

"Oliver, don't start an argument," he said, entering the French boy's room seeing as its door was unlocked. "Everyone's just starting to get along fine again."

Johnny found the greenette on the bed with his face buried in the pillow. Making as little movement as possible, he sat beside the prone form and rubbed its pack consolingly.

"Hey...what's wrong?"

Oliver mumbled something incoherent before rolling over and violently punching the mattress.

"Oi!" the redhead exclaimed, trying to restrain the boy's flailing arms. "Stop it!" he cried.

The greenette seemingly melted as the energy suddenly drained out of him and he collapsed back on the bed. "...it's all frustrating," he muttered.

Johnny scooted closer to listen. "What is?" he asked kindly.

Oliver rolled about in bed to find a comfortable position to lie in before facing his friend.

"The fact that I don't know what to do now," was the tired reply. "I feel like everything's been left hanging...I feel the NEED to do something but I'm afraid Enrique would get mad again..."

The redhead considered the boy for a long while. "Do you WANT to do something?" was the question.

"Well, I..." the greenette hesitated in confusion. Of course he wanted to be happy. He wanted Enrique; he wanted his love. Deep in his heart, he wanted the blonde to share the same feelings he had for him. But...

Oliver shook his head. "I'd be selfish..."

Johnny nodded in understanding. "Not exactly," he said with an air of such optimism that his friend by him dared to hope.

"...everything still depends..."

"DID you eat something this morning?" Robert asked good-naturedly, spotting Enrique lying a little too comfortably on the couch.

"Yes I did," the blonde said sternly. "Why are you here?"

In truth, he wasn't angry at his team captain as much, but to give such an impression would be allowing him license to talk to him in some intrusive manner again.

The German gave him an amused expression. "All of us ARE temporarily residing in the same house. It is inevitable that I impose my presence upon you."

Enrique rolled his eyes and turned away from the elder teen. He squirmed on the overstuffed cushions when he felt some weight descend near his legs.

"Something wrong?" he heard Robert ask.

"Why would you want to know?" was the muffled and grumbly answer.

"Oh I would like to know," the other boy retorted.

"Yeah, you'd like to know because you're always poking your nose into other people's businesses."

"Just concerned."

"Your concern contradicts the means which you convey them by,"

"That's why I'm being civil now," Robert laughed at their exchange. "Come off it, Enrique," he said, slapping the reclining boy's bum. "I may have been rude once, but rest assured it won't happen again. Have confidence in me, I daresay I give good advice when needed."

Enrique smiled to himself. "And it is in your time of airheadedness that I seek such services. I wonder if I should be honored."

The blonde glanced over his shoulder to see where the older teen was when he didn't hear a reply.

"What's wrong Enrique?" Robert asked in all seriousness.

Summer blue eyes blinked slowly, surprised at the abrupt end of their cajoling. He rolled on his stomach and stared at the ceiling. "I'm bored."

A violently violet eyebrow rose. "Bored? Why is that?"

"Nothing's...happening."

"Should something happen?"

The blonde paused for a moment. "...maybe not."

"Why then did you think anything should happen?"

Both of them knew their conversation was going in circles, but the nagging need to talk was heavy in the atmosphere.

Enrique didn't know the real reason. "Maybe it's because we always did something every time we'd get together as a team."

"We don't always need to do something," was the quick reply.

This irked the Italian. "Tell me, why are we having this conversation again?"

"Because you...you and Oliver are becoming increasingly quiet again." There was a hint of resentment in Robert's voice.

Enrique blinked. Oliver... "Well, if he's quiet then so am I."

The German did his best to fight the wave of uneasiness that was threatening to consume him. The blonde's tone had a degree of casualty that almost bordered on annoyance and he didn't like it. Enrique can't get mad at Oliver again. Be it for whatever reason, this was too soon.

Robert didn't want to sound like he was scolding Enrique for it, but he wanted the blonde to take notice. "You two usually cheer each other up if that happens. Normally you two are the lively duo."

Enrique sat up with such speed, he almost collided into his team captain. "Do we ALWAYS have to be 'normal' all the time? Can't we get a break from being 'normal' once in a while?!" he violently exclaimed.

It took some seconds for the German to get over his initial shock.

"Enrique!" His voice pleaded for cooperation as the Italian fell back in the cushions with a frustrated sigh. "You CAN'T stop being yourself! That would be impossible! If it WERE possible, it would be impractical. You've got no other choice but to face the challenges of 'yourself'. No one else would be able to do it for you, they've got challenges of their own."

"Don't force me to do things I don't want!" Enrique's temper was rising.

"I'm not!" Robert tired to overpower him. "You're just being incredibly stubborn, stupid and chicken."

"Gee, you can't blame me, can you?"

"Who else should take the damned blame, Enrique? You answer me that."

The blonde forced himself to calm down. "...I don't like being in the same room with Oliver. It feels weird, alright?"

Robert's existent frown deepened considerably. "Well tell him that." He didn't like what he said, but Enrique was currently being an ass.

"I did," was the tired reply.

The purple-haired man was only half-listening. "What did he say?"

"Nothing."

Enrique was too tightly shrouded in his misery that he failed to notice his companion leave.

For the first time in two days, neither Oliver nor Enrique went downstairs to have dinner. Robert and Johnny had no appetites but they ate nonetheless for the sake of their health.

"Where's Oliver?" the older of the lonely two asked conversationally, not particularly concerned.

"Moping," his companion replied before taking a spoonful of rice. "...in bed.," he added soon after swallowing.

Robert nodded at took a sip of water. "Enrique spent the entire day on the couch."

The redhead nodded too and both of them fell silent. Soon, the pregnant tension became so unbearable; the pair set their cutlery down on the table in exasperation.

"He says he's bored!" complained the German. "He says nothing's happening and he doesn't want to be with Oliver because it's too awkward on his part!"

"He's moping because he doesn't know what to do!" Johnny countered. "He's afraid Enrique might get mad at him if he makes a move!"

Twin sighs of anger issued from the pair. Blessed peace reigned momentarily.

"What do you think?" Robert asked his best mate for the second time in the week.

"They're stalling," was the dark reply.

**TBC**

A/N: Please forgive any typos! I was watching...numerous shows > 


	7. Chapter 7

Cupid Meets Stupid

**Cupid Meets Stupid**

_**Chapter Seven**_

"Breakfast?" Oliver asked cheerfully as Enrique came in the kitchen.

The blonde sniffed the air and grinned at the prospect of eating garlic rice, scrambled eggs with cheese with mushrooms, and sausages.

"Sure," was the casual reply. "I'm starving," and he sat down on the table.

"Oh?" the French boy remarked as he set their breakfast before also sitting down. "Didn't you eat dinner?"

Enrique shook his head as he spooned rice onto his plate. "I didn't...and you?"

Oliver moodily stabbed a stray mushroom a few inches from his egg. "No. I didn't have the stomach to," was his terse reply.

The pair ate in silence for some minutes, coming to agree that the unspoken reasons for their absence were more or less along the same track.

"Johnny and Robert?" Enrique asked a while after.

The greenette ate a huge bite of rice with sausages and swallowed it with difficulty. "I wouldn't know exactly, but I guess they're still asleep. There wasn't a light under the door and I didn't hear any sound from inside."

Lavender-lilac met summer blue and chuckles rang out in the quiet room. After all, it WAS only thirty minutes after two in the morning.

"Any plans for today, 'Rique?" the French boy asked as he stood up and made coffee for both of them.

The blonde stood too and whisked their plates away. He thought about his answer as he carefully placed them in the sink and turned the tap on to wash them. "N—maybe a bit of walking," he replied. "...to think," was hastily added.

Oliver nodded as he handed the dishwashing boy his dose of caffeine, before leaning back on the kitchen counter with his own cup. Enrique relieved his hands of their soap with water and followed the suit.

They drank their coffee in silence

Twin clinks of ceramic on tile indicated that the brown, scalding liquid had been drunk and satisfaction had been derived. The Italian made to leave and hesitated. The greenette made no move to stop him.

"It'll be cold out," was his soft warning. It wasn't a weak attempt to dissuade the other boy's purpose, but a humble concern for his welfare.

Enrique looked over his shoulder and smiled. "Not a cold I can't handle."

"Want me to turn on the lights out in the yard?" Oliver's suggestion could hardly be heard.

Much to his dismay, the blonde stepped out without another word.

Enrique stood on the grass for several minutes. The door to the Les Desmond Mansion was closed behind him. He couldn't make anything out in the darkness...

...until the bulbs in miniature lamp posts sporadically littered on the green lit up. He sighed.

Enrique wanted to clear his head. He wanted to cheer himself up, but what could he do? He usually went girl hunting. Flirting and ladies took his mind off things.

Somehow he suspected he'd feel guilty if he did such a thing, knowing what he knew. He'd be the most horrible person in the world if he went dating with the knowledge of his best friend having more than friendly feelings for him.

He frowned at his reasoning. So what was he going to do then? Fulfill Oliver's dreams? Play along until the boy was happy before he'd turn his back on him and date ladies again? Enrique vigorously shook his head, erasing the thought from his head. He could never afford to do such a thing. Their friendship ran way too deep for that.

Well, he HAD to do something just the same. He couldn't die having lived such a stagnant life.

Alright. First thing on his list was to make Oliver happy.

If he did try and make Oliver happy, what would be in it for him? Trying to make his best friend happy would be useless if the other boy knew his happiness wasn't making him happier.

Enrique released an angry breath of air and smacked himself on the forehead. Damn the loudly arguing voices in his head! They were fighting so ardently for the dominance of his conscience that if he couldn't hear himself think clearly, he'd be forever stuck in eternal indecisiveness.

His reliance on the unpredictability of tomorrow couldn't spoon-feed him with how exactly he could tackle this issue.

Back inside the house, Oliver was having his own internal struggle as he stood by the window and absently watched the blonde unmoving right outside the front door.

The greenette HAD to consider that the blonde was also having the same difficulty as he. Enrique wasn't so dense as to remain indifferent to everything; the caution in his words and actions implied as much. There was even a possibility that both of them were merely waiting for a move from the other. Oliver huffed at the thought that they might as well wait forever because neither of them knew what move to make in the first place.

What would make Enrique happy?

Seeing Oliver happy would be enough. But what if the boy's happiness was loving the blonde, and it went against his morals? It hurt to consider such a thought...that he'd never be happy for the comfort of Enrique's well-being.

Would this even go against his morals in the first place? Of course the French boy had considered the brilliant stratagem of asking, but didn't have the heart nor gut to actually do so. He didn't like talking about it. Enrique didn't like talking about it. This was such a sensitive issue.

Nevertheless, they HAD to confront it if they'd like to move on with their lives.

Oliver had to make the first move. It would be a bold, potentially selfish step toward his projected happiness and self recognition. Enrique might have to make some sacrifices...again.

Well, no pain, no gain.

The greenette closed his eyes to steel himself. He inhaled deeply then exhaled an apology before opening them again. He laid his hand on the door knob and gave himself one last opportunity to have second thoughts, to turn around and run away. When there were no such urges, he smothered the butterflies in his stomach with his determination and stepped into the crisp morning air.

"...Enrique?"

The blonde yanked himself out of his chaotic thoughts and turned to acknowledge the boy beside him, blinking back clarity in his summer blue eyes.

"Mn?"

Oliver's resolve momentarily broke and he turned his gaze to the dew-laden grass beneath his slipper-clad feet. "Mind if we talk?"

The other boy's sigh of relief did not go unnoticed. "No. Go ahead."

So...how was this going to start? 'Love me, Enrique! God damn your morals!' The greenette mentally smacked himself.

The pair shared an ironic silence for some minutes.

Suddenly, the right words came out quite easily. "I want to love you, Enrique Giancarlo Tornatore," said the French boy. "Is that alright?"

Enrique's eyes widened in surprise before he smiled and nodded. That smile was his first genuine one in days.

"S-sure, as long as you're happy."

Oliver too smiled in relief and turned away to hide a blush. "What would make you happy, though?"

The blonde fixed him with a serious gaze. "For now, it would be seeing you happy," he said with such finality that eradicated any chances for argues.

His best friend swallowed and nodded. The elder of the pair squeezed his hand and led them to sit on the front steps.

Together, they watched the sun rise.

It was the beginning of the quest for Enrique's love. Oliver would do his best, and whatever the outcome, they would still remain close friends.

At present, he had a number one rule: NO OUTLANDISH FLIRTING.

**TBC**

A/N: Yet again, forgive the typos. I was watching...Spongebob x3 ...enjoy!xD and ciAo...


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Going online everyday without having anything important to do is a real bore...especially when your friends aren't online the same time as you are!! I might post this chapter a week after I type it ...enjoy!xD

**Cupid Meets Stupid**

_**Chapter Eight**_

Robert and Johnny came in the kitchen later that morning with twin looks of awe on their faces, as if they were stepping into Disneyland for the first time.

"Is this a dream?" Robert asked good-naturedly as Oliver served them truly delicious-smelling pancakes and Enrique got them plates.

"No," smiled the French boy. "This is a limited offer so eat up."

"Are you two feeling better?" Johnny asked, making himself coffee.

The blonde nodded. "Relatively."

The younger pair of Majestics sat on the dining table and watched their elder team mates consume their lovingly made breakfast somewhat ravenously.

The German paused before taking a bite. "Why aren't you two eating?"

"We've already had breakfast," Oliver and Enrique answered in unison.

The redhead looked clearly unconvinced.

The Frenchman pouted. "We're serious!" he said.

"And I'm the Shaman King," the Scot replied sarcastically. "Why aren't there dirty dishes in the sink then?"

"Do you seriously think we'd leave dirty dishes in the sink?" the blonde began when his best friend took over.

"Because we were already up at two!"

"You were up at two?!" Robert said incredulously. Their story was getting harder and harder to believe.

"Well, I couldn't sleep!" Oliver said defensively. "So I decided to cook myself breakfast. I don't know why Enrique—"

"Couldn't sleep either," was Enrique's casual reply. There was a moment's pause before he added, "We had fried rice, sausages, eggs and coffee."

The elder pair abruptly ceased any incoming questions, satisfied that their friends were at least still eating well.

"Good." Johnny said dismissively and ate the rest of his pancakes in one go.

**TIME LAPSE**

"People don't eat breakfast for six hours Jonathan!" Robert said heatedly, straightening his newspaper with a snappy flick.

The German and the Scot were alone in the living room. With Oliver and Enrique having disappeared somewhere upstairs talking, or rather, arguing animatedly, the couple decided to discuss the younger duo's unusual morning excursion.

"Never you mind what they did after breakfast!" Johnny answered, not looking up from a 'Where's Wally?' book. "They might have gotten a bit of sleep before waking up again and making US breakfast...or they might've talked. I wouldn't know."

His companion sighed thoughtfully. "Well, whatever they did, it sort of straightened things out. They're on much better terms now."

The occupied boy gave a non-committal grunt and said nothing more. They shared a long while of blessed peace before hearing loud footsteps going down the stairs.

Oliver and Enrique were dressed to go out.

Robert gave them a look of pleasant surprise. "I'll be! Where are you two going today?"

The greenette flashed him a brilliant smile. "A walk," was the innocent reply. "...get a drink in a cafe, visit places..."

Their team captain's smile could not be erased. "Have fun then!" he said and slapped Johnny on the back. "Look John, they're bonding!"

"AHA!" the redhead exclaimed in reply, making them all jump. "THERE'S Wally!" He triumphantly pointed to a spot on the page. "I found you! In your face you bespectacled, striped-sweater-wearing ninny!"

Oliver and Enrique thought that was their best time to leave.

**CHANGE SCENE**

"He can be only half-Spanish, like how Claude's only half-French."

"How do you know he's only half-French?"

"...because part of him looks Russian."

"Brilliant logic, Enrique. Add in the fact he's half-bird."

"Then Miguel would be half church ornament!"

"Gargoyles aren't church ornaments..."

Oliver and Enrique were settled in their favorite garden cafe in Paris, enjoying caffeinated drinks while watching the city's hustle and bustle.

Their initial conversation had revolved around Beyblading, but soon melted into other related matters such as the teams, the members and so forth. Presently, they were engaged in an animated debate about the heritages of the Barthez Battalion

Enrique nonchalantly shrugged despite the urges of laughing. He turned his attention back to his peppermint expression and took a long sip.

Both boys had momentarily taken to observing opposite parts of their surroundings. Oliver found himself naming cars as they passed by, and Enrique, of course, checked out ladies in a restaurant across the street.

Most of the females in his age were dressed for the summer; otherwise they were donned in a style that radiated elegance and spunk at the same time. Summer blue eyes shifted their gaze to those generous chests, smooth legs, tiny waists and was surprised to find himself not drooling.

He frowned as he tried to arouse some predatorily instinct and set his flirting gears in motion but that wave of excitement just didn't come. A twinge of unknown fright threatened to engulf the boy and he shook his head to bring small comfort to his conscience. He took another sip of his drink and unwittingly looked Oliver's way.

The greenette's attention was still on the cars. More than half his fluffy hair covered idle lavender-lilac eyes. The sun gave him a glow unbeknownst.

Enrique's heart increased its pounding and he found in hard to breathe. He almost spat out his coffee when a tingle, like a singly bolt of electricity, raced from his spine down to his crotch.

**CHANGE SCENE**

It was late in the evening.

Oliver and Enrique waltzed in the Les Desmond Mansion laughing. They had bought dinner in the form of cheap take out in plastic bags.

"Looks like you two had a lot of fun," Johnny greeted, taking the take out from them and bringing it to the kitchen.

"Sure did," said Enrique as his best friend was still incoherent because of a corny joke. "Found all the Wallys?"

The Scot ignored the implications of the question. "If you must know, we...er...played chess."

"All afternoon?" Oliver asked, helping the elder teen get dinner ready. "Well then, you must have won a game at least!"

Johnny gave the pair a fuckface, which sent them laughing harder. The noise brought Robert down.

He greeted them with a brilliant smile. "Take us along on your future trips, ayt? We'd like to stretch our legs once in a while."

"Oh?" asked the French boy. "Then why didn't you come along?"

The German dismissed the prospect with a wave of his hand. "No thank you, you two deserve time together. So, how far did you travel?"

"Around Paris, here and there," Enrique answered. "I daresay we burnt a good deal of fat, didn't we Oli?"

"Fat?" Johnny exclaimed. "What fat? You hardly have any!"

"Fat. Walking." Oliver explained with some fluster. "Oh what did you do all afternoon, John?"

Robert grinned. "He played a total of sixteen games with no wins. So we moved on to playing strip poker—"

There was an uproar.

"Well then," Enrique declared, slamming his fist down on the table with an air of good-naturedly finality. "We won't bring you two on any gimmicks at all! You're having way too much fun already!"

"Robert seeing Johnny in underwear?" Oliver exclaimed. "I'm jealous!"

"Excuse me?" the Scot retorted. "It's Robert the one in underwear!"

The French boy's eyes widened as he clamped a hand over his mouth to tame his surprise. "My God!"

"I suppose you'd love to play again, wouldn't you, John?" smiled their Italian friend.

"I'm shocked that he still has restraint!" the greenette said in awe.

Johnny kept his mouth shut but grew redder and redder as the teasing lengthened.

"It's because he has been temporarily satisfied," Robert answered calmly.

You could feel the heat emanating from the redhead. "You're not helping Robert!" he saidly hotly amidst Oliver's and Enrique's hoots and whistles. "And why are you talking about OUR day?! What about yours? You two were the ones out all day!"

"WE can't play strip poker out on the street," Oliver reasoned sweetly. "Our day was completely boring compared to yours!"

"We just walked and talked," Enrique added. "SO! Back to your day...what else did you two do?"

Robert raised both eyebrows and looked at Johnny for some sort of permission. The redhead pouted.

"Oh my, I hope you didn't break any of my beds," said the French boy. "You'll be paying for those..."

It was the German's turn to blush and his quick tempered mate did a flailing gesture that was supposed to imitate whacking toward Oliver's general direction.

"It's nice to know both of you are being energetic," the blonde among them remarked with the air of a scholar reciting his lessons, completely ignoring his best friend's predicament. "Usually both of you are just depositing yourselves on various couches in the house."

"Thank you, Enrique," Robert said sarcastically.

Both boys turned their attention to the redhead and the greenette, who's pseudo-whacking progressed to an all out chase around the kitchen.

**TIME LAPSE**

"Anyone up for milk tea?"

There was really no denying the invitation. Four steaming mugs lay on Oliver's tray.

The Majestics were once more huddled on their favorite couch in the living room. Dinner was well over and the boys were settling down for bed.

They drank their tea in silence, each lost in his own thoughts.

Needless to say, Oliver felt quite content that things were returning to how they used to be. Enrique was smiling and joking like he used to, but a thin aura of reserve still enveloped him. The greenette frowned into his mug as he pondered over when that cloud would finally disappear.

The Italian on the other hand was thinking about how openly and comfortably all of them were talking about stripping and sex with the same gender. Forget about same gender, make it Robert and Johnny specifically. The fact strangely didn't bother him as much as when he was in the cafe earlier that afternoon. A tiny voice of opposition in his head was screaming that it was all wrong. Why was he suddenly comfortable with things concerning love with the same gender? The majority of his conscience, though, smothered the voice with the consolation that the people in question are his dear friends and that same sex things aren't at all taboo.

...even for straight guys like him.

Enrique choked on his tea.

The Scot and the German, for their part, were relieved. Whatever Oliver and Enrique did, talked about or whatever and all that jazz, it did them good. For now, they couldn't determine if the French boy had continued his pursuit or let things slide. They couldn't tell whether the blonde just buried everything in a hollow ditch inside his head to save their friendship.

They only hoped that the peace would last. Only time could tell what will happen next. Robert and Johnny took a noisy sip of their drinks at the same time.

"Any plans tomorrow, you two?" the former asked, breaking the silence.

The playboy and the snob exchanged looks. "We..." they spoke at the same time. "I...he..."

"Want to go swimming tomorrow?" asked Johnny. "We'll go on a road trip to the country and find a good beach spot. My treat. How's that?"

Three faces brightened.

**TBC**

A/N: Forgive typos!! I was watching Shaman King XP ...enjoy!xD and ciAo...


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: I'm really into this story but MAN I wish I could effectively write two stories at the same time...or at least be able to make a one shot ...enjoy!xD

I apologize for the crappy geography beforehand. I've never been to Europe and I'm too lazy to research...

**Cupid Meets Stupid**

_**Chapter Nine**_

It was a beautiful elite beach by Brittany.

The small party had embarked on their journey in the wee hours of the morning, not giving sleep much thought. They were able to arrive at their destination just as dawn flittered her sweet breeze over the land.

The shores were hardly populated. Children here and there were swimming with their personal maids in the shallow, freezing waters of the Atlantic while their parents idly watched them from the shade of beachside bars and restaurants. A large group of noisy friends was occupying a far off area, energetically playing game after game of volleyball on the baking hot sand. Lonely couples sporadically littered the sun kissed stretch of shore, shielded behind huge umbrellas and sustained by lavishly packed picnic baskets.

Johnny had parked his pick-up beside a towering rock face quite isolated from the commercial part of the beach. It was also there that the Majestics chose to settle down. The sands were hotter; the waters were rougher and colder, but the air, the sky and the view were spectacularly picturesque.

"Last one in the water's got a crush on Wally!" Enrique shouted as soon as the mat, the shade and the food were all brought out and were ready to be consumed for later. Robert sighed and Oliver laughed as the blonde was violently assaulted by Johnny.

The rough-housing pair was unceremoniously drenched by a large wave.

"A crush on Wally indeed," said the German, taking off his shirt and wading to the waters to splash some decency into his team mates. His grass-haired companion cheerfully followed the suit.

The better and warmer part of the morning was spent philandering in the sea.

**TIME LAPSE**

"It's so...goddamned...hot!" Johnny complained breathlessly, fanning himself and getting futile results.

The four teens were finishing up lunch, and not even their expensive shade could earn them the noonday sun's mercy.

"Maybe the salt's making you feel sticky," Robert said lightly, eating the last bite of his tuna sandwich.

The boys were drenched from top to toe and were clad in only multicolored board shorts.

"It's best to sleep off the heat," said Oliver resolutely, shoving aside a neatly re-packed but empty lunch basket so he could have space to lie down.

"Very well, Mat-and-Shade King," the redhead began sarcastically. "Us low-lives are going to sleep over there..." He pointed to a patch of sand that looked comfortably cool located right next to the rock face.

Oliver shrugged. "Suit yourselves. How about you Enrique?"

The blonde answered him with a shrug of his own. "I'll just sit here," he said as he watched Robert beam and grab a large towel to serve as his and Johnny's mat. "I'm not that sleepy."

The French boy lying beside him merely smiled. "It's so relaxing to be at the beach..."

Summer blue eyes shifted their gaze toward him, but all they caught was a sigh of contentment and a sleeping child.

**SCENE CHANGE**

"Psst! Jonathan...Johnny, wake up!"

"This is an ungodly hour, Robert! You've got some bloody nerve—"

"DO shut up. Shut up!"

Johnny groaned and sat up, rubbing his eyes. He threw his purple-haired companion a rueful glance for disturbing his otherwise extremely comfortable nap with the elder teen's infernal incessant shaking.

"What is it?!" he hissed in a tone satisfactorily low.

Robert merely smirked and jerked his head to the direction of the tent Oliver and Enrique were under.

The redhead stole a glance. "So?"

"Look!" was the insisting reply.

Enrique wasn't asleep. He was sitting on the mat, staring unseeing into the vast, calm sea ahead. Beside him, Oliver slumbered peacefully.

Immersed deep in his thoughts, the blonde was unaware that his hand was unconsciously running itself repeatedly through the French boy's soft, grass-hued locks. Summer blue eyes blinked languidly as shifted their gaze to him.

A gentle smile shyly made itself known on the Italian's face.

The witnesses of this scene had gotten a bit noisy.

"Calm down, Jonathan!" said Robert, as his friend was struggling to stop himself from exploding into giddy squeals. "He might hear us!"

The elation could not be erased from the Scot. "Oh, far from it Rob! He's completely preoccupied now! He won't even notice if we dance naked in front of the tent!"

Indeed, Enrique's attention had left the sea and his thoughts. He had lain down on his side and had propped himself on one elbow. His free had continued to stroke Oliver's hair while those sky blue orbs couldn't leave the blissful, relaxed face of the sleeping boy.

The blonde closed his eyes and inhaled deeply before opening them again. His hand froze in the middle of combing through a large amount of fluffy hair and stayed here.

A long pause ensued.

"Why, if I am not mistaken," Robert began, still enraptured by the turn of events. "Oliver has..."

"...scored." Johnny finished. "Don't wake me if this is a dream!"

Slender, sun-kissed digits slowly slid from their bright green forest and landed on top of a pale, peach-soft palm.

Blue darkened to indigo as Enrique's body took over all logical reasoning. Interlacing his finger's with Oliver's limp ones, he tenderly stroked the side of the hand with his thumb.

A few minutes later, the blonde, too, was sound asleep.

Robert and Johnny hardly felt drowsy after the incident. They sat on their towel, side by side and waited for the sun to tone down its heat. Together, they silently wondered if Enrique knew what he had been doing, if he was in some sort of half-awake state or other farfetched possibilities.

**TIME LAPSE**

The tide was coming in, and it meant waves.

A particularly large one brushed the tips of Oliver's toes. Lavender-lilac eyes slowly opened, a thin film of sleep still clouded them.

The surroundings soon made their way into the French boy's groggy consciousness. He tried to sit up, bit his hand was seemingly connected to a weight—

The greenette's eyes widened when he spotted Enrique, lying on his stomach and snoring slightly. His left arm was curled under his chest whereas his right hand...

Over thirty shades of red stained Oliver's cheeks.

"Hey you two!" Johnny called, stomping up to them and spewing sand everywhere. "You've been sleeping all afternoo—woah.." he trailed off, seeing the position the younger boy was in. "Am...am I interrupting something important?"

"I-important? Huh? What?" Enrique was waking up.

Robert arrived carrying their towel just in time to see the blonde, trying to sit up. The redhead said nothing and let the boy find out for himself.

Oliver was still red, and stunned speechless. His companion caught sight of their entwined fingers. In a flash quicker than a reflex, both boys were on opposite ends of the tent, nursing a bit of wounded dignity and Johnny sweat-dropped.

Robert merely shrugged. "The tides are coming in," he said informatively, setting the towel on the mat. "I'd like to catch some waves before getting dinner ready. Anyone coming?"

"I'm game!" Enrique exclaimed somewhat over enthusiastically, eager for a distraction.

"I'm coming," Johnny said with a bit of a sigh. He turned to Oliver and held out a hand. "You?"

The boy blinked before vigorously shaking his head. "I'll make sure we have something to eat before it gets too dark to see anything," was the soft reply.

**TIME LAPSE**

Hardly any swimmers were left on the shore as the sun was setting. Almost everyone was comfortably half-submerged in the waters, being somewhat violently rocked by the large waves of the incoming tide.

Yes. Free, cheap thrills, indeed.

Oliver sat on the mat beside a peacefully humming portable stove the team had brought with them. Even the tantalizing smell of brewing clam chowder in the pot by him was futile in their effort to shake him from his state of deep thought.

What had happened a while ago? When Oliver woke up, Enrique was holding his hand in his sleep. The boy was even embarrassed, like he hadn't known WHAT he had done! Enrique must have been having a dream...could have been a REALLY interesting dream at that.

Oliver shook his head and his body became rigid. Twin, pale hands buried themselves in the salt-fine sand in the attempt to crush it into atoms. Oh and how the French boy was having a nice dream himself!

He relaxed. He had dreamed he was back in their old estate in Bordeaux, owned by his grandparents. His mother was beside him on his bed, stroking his hair as he lay down...

"Earth to Oliver!" Johnny exclaimed in the greenette's ear.

The Scot, Robert and Enrique had returned from the sea, as the cold was getting unbearable and the waves were getting higher.

Oliver jumped from where he was. "Aii! Good grief, you're all wet! AWAY from the food or no dinner for ANY of you!"

"Gah! Heed them, men!" Enrique yelped playfully. "He's got a ladle!"

So the boys vigorously wiped themselves down with a towel before settling down to their beachside dinner. They feasted on their soup using bowls and spoons made out of polished coconut shells.

"Mm!" Johnny exclaimed after his first unmannered slurp. "Clam Chowder by Oliver! Always a true signature..."

"No denying that," Robert agreed good-naturedly.

"The de Lyons are holding a beach party tonight in their bar," said Enrique as they were consuming their chowder in occupied silence. "Want to check it out?"

**CHANGE SCENE AND TIME LAPSE**

The bar was squeezed between the other seaside restaurants that offered grills and other beach foods.

Dizzying disco lights lit a swept concrete dance floor, some tables and chairs for twos to fours and a spectacular bar. Glasses from champagne glasses to shots to rocks lined racks near the roof. Drinks from beer to gin to wine to vodka and every variation and combination in between were endlessly and excellently produced by two expert bar tenders. Ground-shaking music blared from a huge sound system tucked away in a corner.

The music was attracting the beachgoers from every part of the vast shore. The density of the crowd gave the impression that there were MORE people at the beach than seen throughout the entire afternoon.

"It's the Majestics! It's the Majestics!" exclaimed the people as they saw the four aristocrats making their way toward the place. Most of the patrons were high-end folk, hence knew the boys knew quite a number of faces.

Robert and Johnny were included in the first few who took advantage of the bar. Oliver and Enrique somewhat reluctantly proceeded to the dance floor and quickly became comfortable with the number of scantily clad teens who joined them.

Within minutes, the atmosphere of the beachside bar was similar to an urban nightclub. The heat, the liquor, the music and the press of bodies all swirled together and lay alluringly heavy in the air, dulling and exciting the senses.

A flock of ladies had surrounded the Italian playboy, grinding their hips into his and into each others' as they danced. The greenette, though was lost in the crowd, dancing with no one in particular. Johnny was sitting with his back to the bar, enjoying a mug of beer that was almost empty. He was watching his team mate through half-lidded eyes.

Robert beside him jumped as an empty glass slammed down on the table. When he looked up to where the redhead went, he was already making his way toward the young chef.

The music changed from the regular jumpy club tunes, to bass-heavy RnB. Johnny snuck up behind Oliver and leaned close to his ear.

"Hey..." he greeted in a low, breathy whisper.

The younger boy's breath hitched in his throat as a shiver ran down his spine. "Hey John..."

"Want to dance?"

"That's what I'm here for."

It was steamy. It was sexy. The people felt the delicious heat and turned their attention to the pair at the centre of the dance floor.

Two half-naked, sweltering hot boys were moving to the music in perfect sync. One S-shaped form fit exactly into the other S-shaped form. Johnny was behind Oliver and they were going as low as they can go.

The women sighed, remembering how the good men are either taken, gay or both. Still, they could not resist the hypnotic pull of the performance and the music.

A smirk made itself known on Robert's face. He set down his shot glass on the bar's table and stood to join his friends.

The sensual dance quickly turned dirty as the purple-haired German took the rear and pushed the Scot to the middle. Oliver heard the latter's small ejaculation of surprise and grinned. Without warning, he ground his ass into the elder boy's crotch.

"Hoah!"

The yelp attracted the dancers once more. Oh how they got jealous and aroused at the sight! Here were three boys, playfully passing off their teasing as part of their dance. Enrique squirmed in his crowd of girls as he felt the tug of repressed longing tension.

Summer blue eyes widened as he saw his friends baring themselves to the world, pleasing, getting please, sparking delight and envy in their fellow dancers. He saw Oliver's lavender-lilac eyes slowly open as he woke up from the music's trance. The French boy smiled slyly when he noticed the blonde looking his way.

One tiny nod, one insignificant invitation was enough to draw Enrique from the seemingly undeniable curves of the ladies around him. With a moan of joy, he swung into position in front of Oliver, to which the boy answered by pressing closer to his back.

A sigh once more escaped the crowd. The Majestics were complete, invading one anothers' personal spaces to calculatedly dangerous proximities. Their beauties were tormenting and all the ladies knew those four would be unavailable for the rest of the night.

Only when Johnny broke off from Oliver did the men among the crowd hoot and holler for more excitement. The fiery redhead smirked and let Robert guide them to heavier, closer and hotter dancing.

The music slowed its pace.

Oliver's eyes were closed as he rested his chin on Enrique's shoulder. The greenette had his arms around him, as if he were hugging him from behind whereas the other boy's arms were merely resting on his stomach. Each of the French boy's pale fingers was in between those of the blonde's tan ones. They swayed to the music in unison, breathed in unison and sighed in unison.

The dancers around them had also mellowed down.

Enrique's eyes were half-lidded and the blue behind them betrayed the boy lost in thought once more.

What was happening? He had never been so close to his best friend before, let alone be clad in mere shorts and press close together like not doing so would cost them their lives. Yet...despite the fact, Enrique felt comfortable.

He felt safe. Heck, he was enjoying every minute of their contact. The sensation of Oliver's pounding heartbeat against his back, the boy's hot breath on his neck, the steady expansion and contraction of his abdomen as he inhaled and exhaled, the slightly ticklish lock of green hair beside his ear, the intensity of their united body heat: all these were new, unchartered land for Enrique's senses.

He wanted to experience more...

But a part of him was still scared, still reluctant. Why had he been so easily enticed? Why was he so easily swayed by Oliver's sensuality, his appeal, his temptation...or whatever the boy's magic secret was! Was this right?

At the moment was what right or wrong remained relative. The real question was...

Did he LIKE what was happening?

Enrique's element was water. It was comfortable wherever. It was flexible and it went with the flow. He, therefore, should act the same.

What was unmistakably an erect length unintentionally bumped against the crack of his bum and with the speed of a bullet, he too felt himself go hard.

His body tensed and Oliver smiled against his neck. Shivers coursed through both their frames. If sharing such closeness was going to make him feel the way he did, then he didn't care what was being done to him, he didn't care what the world thought...

...and By Jove, he DID like it.

Summer blue eyes, too, slid closed in contentment.

**TIME LAPSE**

"Oh CAN we sleep outside the tent tonight, Robert? Please! The stars are out and the moon is simply indescribable!"

The German merely shrugged and smiled his approval of Oliver's plea. He shook his head in amusement as the boy enthusiastically prepared their beds out on the moonlit sand. Johnny went over to help.

Robert watched the pair work for a few moments before turning his attention to Enrique, quiet and pensive beside him.

"Hey," the elder teen began. "How are you?"

"I'm good," the blonde answered without looking at him. A small smile graced his handsome features.

Robert nodded in understanding. He rubbed the blonde's back in a somewhat consoling manner before giving it a forceful pat.

"This principle goes against most of my ideals in life, but it's nevertheless useful to follow on occasion," said the German.

Enrique looked up at him curiously. "What?"

"Don't think, Enrique," was his reply.

And Robert left the boy standing on the sand. The Italian stared after him, not knowing what to say.

**TBC**

A/N: This...was a long chapter! I started typing this 930am and I finished 1230pm! Forgive typos and sentences that don't seem to make sense because I was watching TV while doing this XP MAN! If I'm going to increase my word count, I've got to type FASTER!! ...enjoy!xD and ciAo...

**THREE THOUSAND WORDS!! WOOOOOOH!!**


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: I am typing somewhere else! And guess where! That's right! I've got a new PC!

**Cupid Meets Stupid**

_**Chapter Ten**_

"Get up! Get UP!"

Enrique was vigorously shaking Oliver's sleeping form the next morning.

His best friend rolled over and squinted at him. "Whuzzgoinon?" he answered groggily.

"The tide's low and the waters are perfect!" the blonde answered. "You haven't had a good swim since yesterday!"

Oliver sat up and was about to protest that he _did_ have one swim. Unfortunately, he did so just in time to see Robert rip his shirt off while running awkwardly after Johnny, ejaculating an undignified 'hohoho'.

"Hang on, where's Johnny going? Is the water THAT low?" he asked.

"Oh DO stand up, Oliver!" said Enrique.

The boy did as he was told and his eyes widened at what he saw.

The sea's retreat had opened to the beach a vast expanse of wet, wave-shaped sand. The tide was so low that the first small waves of salt water reache the line of the horizon. From where the younger Majestics were, Johnny and Robert appeared as mere specks.

"Come ON!" Enrique insisted and dragged Oliver out to the sand.

It was only six in the morning.

None of their companions on the beach were up so early, having been thoroughly exhausted from last night. Four racuous screams of utterly childish mirth and the occasional distant splashes of water and waves hitting the far shore rang out unhindered into the dawn.

**SCENE CHANGE AND TIME LAPSE**

"Thanks for the weekend, Jonathan," Robert told his partner behind the wheel.

Oliver and Enrique sat on the back seat.

"Yeah!" added the latter. "We should do something like this more often!"

The redhead gave a sigh of mock-tiredness. "That was an act of charity," he said loftily, yet there was a smile on his face. "Next time you guys'd like to do something like this, you have to bow before me and present offerings..."

"Hail thee, Lord Johnny," said the German, acting out the would-e scene. "Denizen of the Bagpipe and Ruler of Souls who need Anger Management. To his Eminence, us lowlives present these red Hawaiian shorts to compliment thy hair..."

Way before that line, Oliver and Enrique were already hollering with laughter. Robert soon dropped his regal facade to laugh too at the look of half-irritation and half-amusement on Johnny's face.

"How's about we all get our lunch in my restaurant back in Paris?" Oliver suggested. "All meals on the house!"

"Jeez, don't bother, Oliver!" Robert and Enrique exclaimed in unison.

"It's more than kind of you to be preparing our food," said the former.

"Let us pay at the very least," added the latter.

The young chef, however, was already shaking his head. "Unlike Johnny-boy here, I'd gladly do this for my friends," he said with a grin.

Their purple-haired team captain was getting ready to protest.

Oliver's face turned livid. "Insist and you die."

Robert raised his hands in surrender. "Not insisting!"

And the four friends had an extremely enjoyable ride back to France's beloved capital.

**SCENE CHANGE**

"WHAT has gotten you preoccupied for these past few days?!" Venus exclaimed to her son, raising her glittering, slender arms in the air as a gesture of exasperation.

Cupid was perched on a low cloud overlooking Paris.

From this bird's eye view, the boy god could see everyone, even the mortals in buildings.

'This unforgivably stubborn boy," he replied, not turning to acknowledge the presence of the goddess. "Right there! I've shot him with my golden arrows over three times and he remains unyielding!"

Cupid stared to point frantically in the direction of Oliver Les Desmond's famous restaurant. Through the roof, Venus could see a small party of four teen, that being the Majestics. Enrique sported a shimmering gold glow, signifying he had been recently victimized by the God of Love.

"Forget the arrows!" Vulcan said with the air of an old man making jokes. The God of the Forge had been passing by and overheard their conversation "Have you tried a machine gun?"

Cupid stood up. "Well no, but--"

"I'll make you one!" the physically challanged god said cheerfully and hobbled away.

Venus dismissed the awkwardness with a snobbish-sounding huff despite the small evidence of amusement of her seemingly ivory-cast face. "Stop giving him ideas. Now, what's wrong with this boy? Because of him, you're neglecting your duties!"

"Not only that boy, mother!" said her son. "But also that!" He pointed to Oliver. "They want to fall in love. I can feel it. It's obvious and strong. But...they're just too stupid!"

"Too stupid?" Venus asked, mildly intrigued. "How? Can't your arrows evict their stupidity?"

Cupid heaved an angry sigh. "No Ma, I can only help lovers so far. It is they themselves who are stopping their love from reaching each other! I just don't get why!"

"Well then," snapped the Goddess of Beauty. "If that's the case, why do you devote such time on them? After all, they reject your help."

Cupid wheeled about to appeal to his mother face to face. "I can't Ma! It's eating them from the inside! They want to fall in love, they REALLY do! But they don't know how...or they don't want to because of heaven knows what! I'm trying things within my power that can help them but...oh, they're both viciously stubborn!"

"And I've kept telling him that it must be for a moral, deeper reason," came the gentle, mild-mannered voice of Psyche, the god's wife. For days, she had been attending to his neglected duties and had also been supportive of the boy's obsessive campaign.

Venus clicked her tongue in impatience as she turned to acknowledge the young, immortal slip of a girl. "Well then, have you two found out the reason?"

Cupid and Psyche exchanged looks.

"It is beyond our power," began the former.

Venus sighed and briskly stalked off to find Minerva. "Stay there, you two! Since this thing has een brought to the light, we might as well give the solution to it once and for all."

**SCENE CHANGE AND TIME LAPSE**

"You have some nerve, Venus!" came Minerva's authoritative tone, clearly audible even from a far distance from the cloud where Cupid and Psyche were. "Give me one good reason why we are going out of our ways to help two insignificant mortals!"

"My son is close to obsessed with them!" was the equally heated reply. "He will not stop such madness until those mortals fall in love."

"Why then would you want to cut short his amusement? Is his domain not love? He is rightfully concerned in such matters," said the Goddess of Wisdom. "And frankly, it is not important if this particular occupation keeps his busy for several lifetimes!"

Venus heaved an exasperated sigh. "He is not amused by this, Minerva," she explained patiently. "He is torn by it! Torn as the lovers he describes!"

Minerva was clearly amused. "And how would such a description be?"

"Best hear it from him!"

**SCENE CHANGE AND TIME LAPSE**

Psyche was reduced to a quiet, humble puddle of blushes at the sheer importance Minerva's personage radiated.

"Are you serious, mother?" Cupid asked incredulously, marveling at the goddess.

"Oh she is," Minerva answered. "Now where are these two torn mortals you speak of? To what degree is the severity of your case?"

Cupid pointed yonder, through the building walls and at the table where the Majestics were dining happily.

"The green-haired boy and the flaxen-haired boy," said the young god. "Their names are Oliver and Enrique respectively. The former has professed love to the latter whom, unfortunately, is interested in females only. And because they were the closest of friends, Oliver's change in his view of Enrique caused a chasm in their friendship."

"However," he continued. "Enrique accepted Oliver whole-heartedly, not exactly agreeing to return his feelings...and now they are left hanging in the air." Cupid paused to let the information sink into the minds of his companions.

Venus' expression had softened. "You seem to have followed their story quite well."

Her son's features held a far away look of sorrow. "Among all of the lovers I have helped...they...they have the love most true. They have become close to my heart..."

Minerva's brows rose. "But they are not--"

"That's exactly it!" Cupid burst out, turning rapidly to face the great goddess. "It is why I'm bringing them together!" He relaxed and gazed once more toward Paris. "Oliver and Enrique wanted to save their friendship," he continued. "They agreed to keep some distance, but such a decision left them with no direction. Oliver still wanted to love Enrique. Enrique in turn wanted to make Oliver happy.

Cupid looked at his mother with a plea in his eyes. "They want to love each other, but they are afraid of doing so! I don't know why!"

"And we shall find out promptly," said Minerva and looked toward the higher skies. "Mercury!"

The messenger god quickly answered the call. He hastened to the goddess's side with the help of his winged hat and sandals.

'Yes, m'lady?" Mercury greeted cheerfully.

"Go down and listen to those boys' consciences," said Minerva, pointing to Oliver and Enrique. "For sure they will be talking loudly. I DO hope you know what to listen for?"

The messenger god gave her a salute. "I have never failed as a snoop, m'lady," he said proudly. "I take it that those mortals are our ill-fated lovers, if I have heard correctly."

Venus was taken a bit aback. Cupid and Psyche exchanged beams of pleasant surprise.

"Oh yes! We wish you luck, Mercury!" Psyche called breathlessly as Mercury took off into the air.

**SCENE CHANGE**

Oliver was talking a little too over enthusiastically. Enrique had this annoying, fake smile plastered on his face.

Johnny sighed. What was wrong now? Had the trip worsened things between the two? Robert, too, wasn't the one to overlook these seemingly trivial details. For the sake of cordiality, though, he kept the talk within his team lively.

The Italian mentally gave a sigh or irritation.

His cheerful mood was rapidly deteriorating once more. Was this about Oliver again? But he thought he had straightened things out in Brittany? What now?

Enrique was turning gay. He could even admit he was beginning to like Oliver the way the boy liked him. Alright, so what of it?

The little voice of opposition in his head fiercely retaliated that such a solid belief was influenced by the fact that he KNEW Oliver had feelings for him. It was scary that Enrique was indeed yet unconsciously playing along. He felt a strong need to help his best friend that's why he always got lost in the moment. in the long run, the feelings would eventually die out...and Oliver would be alone again.

Enrique slowed down on eating. Summer blue eyes clouded over once more as he waged another internal war with himself.

It was a possibility...and a horrible one at that. His decisions, his feelings couldn't have been because of the influence of what he knew, right? He clearly knew what he had felt that night when they danced. Those feelings were true and undoubtedly his.

He had agreed to the fact that Oliver would still love him. The boy knew his limits...he'd be cruel if he was manipulating Enrique to develop feelings for him. Oh man, that sounded harsh. But face the facts, loving Oliver would be a decision that relied entirely on Enrique and no one else.

Oliver...

The French boy had toned down his talk, leaving Robert and Johnny to carry on the conversation. That dance was a bold step far too far! He should never have done that! It was way too intrusive for Enrique's part. It was unfair to the blonde that he was imposing his feelings on him, making him feel good like that to reach some sort of consent.

It was an unattractively desperate move from Oliver. He was afraid. He was afraid that Enrique didn't really love him. He was afraid of rejection. e was afraid to lose his best friend. He was afraid to love Enrique...

Oliver put his fork down. His hand had begun shaking so badly. He wanted to cry.

Not here. Not now. Not in front of Enrique!

Oh the cruelty of assumptions! They were much too painful to bear. Damn the wretched things called consciences, logic and reasoning! Damn the norms! Damn them all to hell!

Communation.

Yes. A talk was in order. Enrique hated talks. Before all this mayhem , he had always been comfortable talking with his best friend. Now...

Summer blue eyes shifted their gaze to the quiet French boy in front of him. Under the table, the blonde's foot nudged his knee. Oliver's head shot up, the swift movement unwittingly dislodging a tear from glazed lavender-lilac eyes,

"Wh...?" He hastily wiped the treacherous drop off his cheek and disguised his distress by taking a huge bite from his meal and fixing the Italian with an expectant stare.

Enrique just gave him a look and Oliver nodded.

**SCENE CHANGE**

"They're...waiting for each other?" Cupid asked incredulously upon Mercury's return.

"Yes, m'lord," answered the god. "Indeed they are in love but are afraid to make a move for fear they would hurt the other in terms of grave morality. And the other boy with the cornflower hair is worried that what he feels is not true nor of his own."

"Why then don't they just talk?" Venus asked.

"I believe that is what they have agreed to do..." said Mercury.

Cupid frowned. "They've already tried so before. I did not work. They are afraid of each other."

Apollo passed by in his golden chariot and stopped at the sight of the party. "What your lovers need is a good drilling that the panacea to their prayers is the love of the other!" he declared good-naturedly.

"Forget that," said Mars, appearing behind a mass of cloud. "Behold how all the world conspires to help them--"

"Oh no!" said Psyche. "We can't force them to fall in love! That decision is solely theirs!"

Nevertheless, the gods and goddesses increased, intent upon helping Cupid with the plight of Oliver and Enrique or to merely mingle and exchange the common gossip with the brewing group.

Amidst the noise, Minerva placed her hand on the shoulder of the God of Love.

"Listen to your wife," she said. "I daresay she's got a good head on those shoulders. Humans today need not our help as much. Everything will work itself out, you'll see. I will personally appeal to my father for you to bless and guide this couple if that is what you wish, Cupid."

With that, Minerva disappeared to find Jupiter. Cupid heaved a heavy sigh and returned to Psyche's side. They watched the crowds in Paris as a riot of dieties broke out behind them.

"Oliver and Enrique are STILL stupid!" he forcefully ejaculated moments later.

**SCENE CHANGE AND TIME LAPSE**

The weather was increasingly getting chilly for summer. At the sudden gloom of the sky, the Majestics returned to the Les Desmond Mansion for shelter in case an unexpected downpour would occur.

Robert and Johnny had taken to walking about and talking in hushed tones in the hallways of the upper floors.

"DID this trip help?" The redhead was nervous of making things between their two younger friends worse rather than better.

The German was rubbing his best mate's back with vigor. "Yes, Johnny. This trip helped. It did. It did, okay? You saw what happened, right? We both saw! Enrique is falling in love. And now, if he knows that...he's unsure of how to deal with it."

Johnny remained unconvinced.

Oliver and Enrique weren't talking much themselves down in the kitchen.

The former was standing by the sink, looking out the window whereas the latter was leaning on the counter nearest the doorway. The Fre nch boy was so nervous, his hands were visibly trembling.

"Enrique," he begain in a fluster, wheeling about to face him. "About last night, I'm really sorry--"

"You're not at fault, Oliver," his best friend said sternly. "So stop blaming yourself everytime you do something like that. It's not your fault!"

"But it is! It IS!" the greenette said defiantly. "It's my fault because I love you and I'd doing things to force you into something you don't--"

"Oliver. Stop."

Enrique was looking directly at him with the most serious expression on his face that it took the other boy by surprise.

"I'm sorry..."

"Stop apologizing."

Oliver's breath hitched in his throat as tears welled in his eyes. His best friend was never this stern.

"Please," Enrique added in a calmer tone.

The blonde sighed and sat on the table. He clasped his hands together and placed them on its surface He then took a deep breath before looking directly at Oliver.

"There wasn't anything wrong with what you did last night. The problem is..." He swallowed. "...me. Again."

It was Oliver's turn to sigh, one of part relief and part sadness. He dropped his gaze to the kitchen floor.

"What brand of guilt is eating you now?" he asked quietly. "Would I be of any help?"

His best friend was staring hard at the table. What WAS eating him? Was the right or wrong thing still bugging him? Hadn't he already established that right or wrong didn't matter as long as he felt happy? Was he fooling himself? If he was and it was causing both of them intense pain, why not just come out and say he loved Oliver already?

No. That was too shallow.

So what was his problem? There wasn't anymore manliness in him to cling to. Why didn't he want to yield?

Because he wasn't sure if what he was beginning to feel for Oliver was really ture.

THAT'S what's been bugging him. His conscience would not allow him to be consoled by the fact that he convinced himself his feelings were entirely his and not influenced.

Should he tell Oliver? What good would come out of it?

"Oliver," he begain, choosing his words carefully. "I'm not...sure..."

He sighed and shook his head, having absolutely no idea how he could go about this. Oliver considered the broken boy for a while before sitting beside him. He stared at the hunched back and made to pat it comfortingly. Out of fear, however, his hand remained suspended in mid air.

Oliver turned away and returned his hand to his lap. Pain was etched in his features.

**SCENE CHANGE**

Most of the gods and goddesses who were not pressed with their duties had joined Cupid and Psyche on the edge of the cloud overlooking Paris.

They were caught up in the intrigue of the young god's case and wanted to enthusiastically watch the turn of events like it was some sort of widely viewed television drama.

"What?!" Neptune was exclaiming as they watched the proceedings in the Les Desmond Mansion's kitchen. "What's happening? Why did he not comfort the boy?" His voice rose like a wave above the same anxious murmurs of his immortal companions.

Psyche was watching the scene with growing horror. "Cupid!" she appealed in hushed urgency, turning to her husband. "They're falling apart!"

Cupid's face was pale. An uproar from the more aggressive dieties was brewing.

"I say, Cupid!" the God of War was shouting. "Let the world conspire in order to help those two lads!"

Loud agreements followed. So noisy were the heavens that grumbles of thunder were heard on the earth below, confirming a coming of rain.

"Go ahead, Cupid," came the mighty voice of Zeus. His tone was that like a father requesting of his son. "There's nothing wrong with a little divine intervention."

Cupid nodded once and faced the land once more. He took a deep breath and shot over a thousand gold arrows into the sky.

"Lovers!" he called. "Unite!"

Apollo cast his hand over the lower skies and the sun disappeared behind thick rain clouds. The four winds were set lose to play.

**SCENE CHANGE AND TIME LAPSE**

The mansion was deathy quiet, making the increasing roar of rain outside more distinct.

With his curiosity irked, Enrique stood from his seat and hastened to the window. Oliver followed the suit.

"It's raining hard!" the blonde remakred. Surprise was evident in his tone.

"Look!" said the greenette. "There're still a lot of people outside."

Enrique frowned. True, there were numerous people under feeble umbrellas but, "They're all traveling...in pairs," he said.

And that was true too. Couples were walking in front of the Les Desmond Mansion as if they were having a stroll in the park. A boy and a girl were under one umbrella with their hands around each other's waists. A girl and a girl wer under this other umbrella, arim in arm for warmth. Two boys were under another umbrella, standing in the middle of the path, gazing into each other's eyes.

It was impossible to count the many lovers who converged in front of the young chef's house. The fact that their population was increasing didn't seem to bother them either.

Oliver and Enrique rushed to the living room to watch the phenomena from a better window.

"What's going on?" the younger of the pair asked.

At that moment, Enrique's conscience was nagging him again. Well, not exactly nagging, but meaning to make a point as if something just came to it.

It indeed wasn't a matter of what was right or wrong. But it wasn't JUST about him liking this, it was also about him NEEDING it.

Before, when his life was still composed of philandering with ladies and eating Chinese food, he was quite content with himself. He had sought women for fun, not love or commitment. He hadn't given the slightest consideration for the possibility of him ardently searching for something missing in his life. Never had he asked for anything because there wasn't anything to ask!

But now...his and Oliver's friendship had been thrown into jeopardy in such a short amount of time that a maelstrom of horrible feelings were scratching and clawing inside his chest.

It dawned on him that it wasn't all fun and games. His friends could be taken from him in a hearbeat, not by circumstance, not by fate, but by preventable, regret-inducing human error.

The prospect filled him with such terror that he had to cling to some lifeline for support. He'd never take his friends for granted in the future.

Enrique was missing his lifeline.

He hadn't realized that yet. His stubborn self was only beginning to entertain the fact that he finally needed something.

Past the living room and in the game room that was still in view, Robert and Johnny had settled themselves on a squashy couch, catching the playboy's and the snob's attentions. Like the lovers outside, the comfy pair was oblivious to any witnesses.

Robert had taken a automoblie magazine on the low table in front of them while Johnny stretched himself out on the couch in preparation for a nap. His head was resting on the German's thighs.

As the minutes passed by, however, it was beginning to be evident that the elder teen was not reading the magazine or pay attention to it at all. Robert had begun to run his fingers through Johnny's hair. The Scot in turn, raised a hand to cup the other boy's cheek in genuine tenderness.

There was no exchange of words, just wine-red locked on plum.

A sad smile played on the redhead's lips as the hand that fondled his hair left to hold the one on his cheek. Robert gripped it tight and closed his eyes. Johnny's mouth parted slightly in awe as tears struck his face.

'Robert!" Oliver whispered and made to move toward the pair in the hopes of offering comfort when Enrique grabbed his hand.

His best friend shot him a look but the blonde just shook his head.

Robert cried silently for a few moments before Johnny scooted up and pressed his lips firmly against the other man's.

Outside, the lovers too had done the same.

Enrique stood there on the living room floor watching the exchange of pure love and care between the noble and the hothead and felt a twinge of jealousy. He remembered the peace that washed over him when Oliver held his hands from behind as they danced.

Seeing the people around him, knowing they had access to such delights because of their partners made him finally realize he was indeed missing something in his life.

Enrique felt lonely.

A melancholy summer blue gaze shifted to a pensive Oliver beside him.

...Oh who was he kidding?

**TBC**

A/N: Now this took DAYS to type because I didn't get much time. Another long chapter is finally published! Every romance has to have some magic, right? So I took the liberty of using our beloved Greek mythology. That's not illegal is it? Ah heck...I love this story too much to let it be deleted. OVER MY DEAD BODY!

Tell me what you think! ...enjoy!xD and ciAo...

Psst...I've set a new record! 4, 100 words _without_ the author's notes! **FOUR THOUSAND, ONE HUNDRED BABY!!**


	11. Last Chapter

A/N: I suppose I SHOULD do something enigmatic for the JMP's 4th anniversary...so we bring you the finale of...

**Cupid Meets Stupid**

_**Last Chapter**_

"Enrique? Overlooking all circumstances, could you please hug me? It's getting really cold."

Enrique blinked and tore his unseeing gaze away from a far off spot in the living room. He looked at Oliver in surprise and found the boy shivering.

"Oh, all...alright. Let's sit here on the couch," he replied.

The pair squished themselves in a corner of the said squashy furniture. The blonde wrapped his arms tight around the other boy, who, in turn, buried his face in his neck.

"Thanks," was the somewhat muffled expression of gratitude before dozing off.

Enrique closed his eyes and gave a small sigh before opening them again. Johnny and Robert have fallen asleep in each other's arms back in the game room. The rain outside had grown to lashing against the environment and the crowd outside the Les Desmond Mansion had dispersed, finally having mind to seek shelter.

In that position, huddled on the couch, the Italian resumed his internal argument. But first, he'll have to straighten some things out.

Why was he feeling miserable now?

Because he was feeling something he wasn't used to feeling.

And what exactly was that?

Well, for the first time ever, he felt dissatisfied with life. He realized something was missing since the night he danced on the beach. He had never felt so...quintessentially happy and he wanted more of the feeling. He needed more of the feeling to be complete.

Okay. If that feeling was to be the one to complete him, why not just go ahead and find or do the means to keep feeling that way?

Because it involved...uh...conceding to Oliver's...wishes.

And what's so wrong with that?

Well, he wasn't sure if he should already swing that way.

Oh get real. Why not? What was he clinging to? The old thrill of flirting with girls?

To be honest, there really wasn't a thrill anymore.

So, if there isn't, he'd have no reason to keep himself from swinging that way! Why was he so stubborn?

Because he hadn't convinced himself that it was something morally acceptable.

THAT was one of the lamest excuses he could give himself. Almost all of his friends in Europe and abroad were gay. That aside, since when did he care about morals? Wasn't this what he needed so he could feel complete? He said so himself not too long ago. Asking again, why was he still hesitant?

Because he wasn't confident that his feelings were entirely his own and not influenced by the knowledge that Oliver loved him.

Alright. A fair enough argument. He didn't exactly have the means to know the nitty gritty of his feelings' origins. Was such a factor even important?

Of course it was!

No, it wasn't.

Enrique groaned, seriously annoyed with himself. How? It was a major problem only a few hours ago.

Opinions don't last. Whether his feelings are influenced or not doesn't matter, as long as HE was the one feeling them. Besides, if he knew where his feelings were coming from, what could he do about it?

With the knowledge, he could tackle them from a more logical approach.

Oh? Hadn't he been tackling this ENTIRE issue logically from the start?

Well, yes.

Has the logical thinking gotten him somewhere yet?

...not exactly.

Was the logical thinking making the situation clear for him to see in all its tangled glory?

...no.

By far, has the logical thinking done him any good at all?

Enrique pouted like a child receiving a pretty thorough reprimand. Alright, fine! Thinking hasn't done him any good.

Then don't think.

The blonde's head shot up, careful not to disturb the dozing Oliver in his arms. Robert's advice came back to him with the painful, sensibility-bringing force of a pop quiz.

His conscience sat back and watched his coolly, quite satisfied with the comeback it came up with.

Enrique took a deep breath and shut his eyes tight. Tears slipped quietly down his cheeks. For ten full minutes, he sat crying on the couch. After which, he opened his eyes once more and sniffed loudly.

Enrique was giving up, exhausted from the emotional roller coaster he had gone through. He gave up in the form of one, shuddering sigh and turned his eyes to the rain-spitting heavens outside with a smile on his tear-stained face.

_How do you fall in love?_

**SCENE CHANGE**

"Apollo! Apollo! Stop the rain!" cried Psyche.

It took some moments for the Sun god to react. Eventually, the skies cleared, but all was quiet. The god and goddesses had ceased their incessant chatter, comments, side comments and whatever else at the turn of events in the Les Desmon Mansion.

They had been reduced to speechless, staring things. Cupid, in fact, was unaware of the tears that had fallen from his wide eyes.

"How...how do you fall in...love?" he quoted, using his hand to cover his mouth in an overwhelmed gesture as more tears flowed in torrents down his cheeks.

The hand that held his bow shook considerably. Psyche took the instrument from his with some inquiry.

"You can help them now..."

Her husband shook his head and took back the bow with a firmer grip. "I have nothing more to offer in aide," he said thickly, wiping dry his eyes.

A heavy hand landed gently on his shoulder, effectively preventing him from abandoning the scene.

"Bless them, Cupid," was Zeus' request.

The boy swallowed and nodded, before getting two of his finest golden arrows and firing them into the air.

**SCENE CHANGE**

Enrique nudged Oliver's cheek with his nose.

"Oliver..." he whispered.

The grass-colored brows knitted for a moment before glassy, sleep clouded lavender-lilac eyes slowly opened. It took a while for the French boy to be fully aware of his surroundings.

When he was, he turned crimson.

A small whimper escaped him at the extremely little distance between Enrique's face and his.

"Warm?"the blonde asked kindly.

Oliver nodded, still shocked and wide-eyed

"That's good," Enrique replied and playfully bumped his forehead against the greenette's. "I've done a bit of thinking," he began slowly, wondering is the use of such an irony would be appropriate.

"Thinking?" Oliver asked incredulously. "Thinking doesn't suit you, 'Rique."

His best friend chuckled lightly as they leaned their heads on each others'. Soon, glittering laughs filled the living room, complimenting the weather outside.

The clouds were finally parting to give way to the re-entry of the sun.

"No," Enrique said with a smile "Thinking doesn't suit me."

With that, he tenderly rubbed his nose against Oliver's smaller one, causing the boy's flush to deepen. In a little while however, both boys relaxed. Their eyes were closed, relishing the feel of each others' heat, each others' foreheads and noses, inhaling each others' scent and drinking in each others' presence.

"Oliver..." Enrique spoke in a low voice filled with sincerity.

The French boy opened his eyes and looked up at him.

"I'm sorry."

Oliver sighed and cupped his cheek. "Stop apologizing," he said with a smile, imitating a similar statement earlier in the kitchen. "There's a lot more to be thankful for than sorry."

The blonde nodded. "...and thank you," he added softly.

The greenette bit his lower lip, not wanting to cry. They touched noses once more, then, on impluse, Enrique decided to return a very overdue kiss.

It was long, steady and sweet. In it flowed all of themselves. In it was a powerful vow of commitment and loyalty. In it was a promise. In it went all the love and more they could give. In it went the entire world. It in went the earth, the stars and the universe.

Enrique was the first to break away, though not wholly, as his slightly parted lips still hung on Oliver's, the delicate taste of each other still dancing on their tongues.

When lavender-lilac eyes opened, they found summer blue gazing at them with such serene, content happiness not seen before. The power of the stare made the French boy slightly uncomfortable.He looked behind him to see if Enrique was looking at something else.

When he found none, he said, "Is...is there something on my face?"

The blonde smiled and continued to look at him. "Je t'aime..." he said.

This time, Oliver _did_ cry. A soppy, wet child's cry that echoed in the living room.

With twice the ferocity and hunger, Oliver once more closed the distance between him and his best friend.

Johnny and Robert froze in mid-step by the doorway separating the game room and the receiving area. They were about to transfer to its couch when a truly beautiful and private scene met them.

The redhead placed a hand over his mouth in shock. The German's eyes widened and he hurriedly grabbed the other boy's arm to drag him away.

Neither Oliver nor Enrique noticed.

Glittering sunlight streamed merrily through big bay windows.

_Love is merely madness and I tell you, deserves as well a darkhouse and a whip as madmen do; and the reason why they are not so punished and cured, is that the lunacy is so ordinary, that the whippers are in love too – Shakespeare_

A/N: Hope you enjoyed **Cupid Meets Stupid**! I certainly have, and this fic is as close to my heart as **My Porcelain Doll**. Forgive typos! And see you around for another GianOli

...enjoy!xD and ciAo for now...


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